Vendy Martínková > Recent Status Updates

“But that would mean I absorbed your soul when I touched the Nightmare Card. Which makes you… the Shepherd King.”
A growl, a sneer—oil, bile. His voice called, louder than it had ever been, as if he was closer. Stronger. Finally, my darling Elspeth, we understand one another.”

When he leaned closer, I closed my eyes, his mouth a whisper from mine. His voice caught at the edges. “Is this you pretending, Elspeth?” he said, the tip of his nose grazing mine. “Because if it is…” His breath stirred my eyelashes. “You’re very good at it.”

“What if we tell Erik Spindle and the Hawthorns that we’ve invited Elspeth to stay at Castle Yew… so that you might court her?”

Two lights warred for dominance. One burgundy, the other pink, carried by a strikingly beautiful woman with yellow hair. My heart plummeted into my stomach as Hauth’s voice rattled over the din. “Tonight,” he declared, “thanks to his generous contribution, my father has knighted Tyrn Hawthorn. We are proud to offer his daughter a place in our royal family.”

The two were together, so the two were the same:
“The girl, the King… and the monster they became.”

“Come on, sit down. I don’t care who your dad is. You’re one of us.”
Kit scooted over to make room. And when Casey sat down next to Nina, Jay squeezed her shoulder. Nina patted her knee.
She needed someone to love her. And they could do that. That would be very easy for them to do.
June was gone. Yet here she was, living on through her children.

Thirteen arrests, hundreds of people kicked out of the house, and the Rivas nowhere to be found.
By the time the clock struck 5:00 A.M., the party of the decade was over.

Mick’s eyes welled up and he looked each of them in the eye, even Casey. “Every minute of your lives you were loved,” he said as his chin started to quake. He put his hands together in a prayer motion and put them to his chest and said, “If I exist on this earth, someone loves you. I’m just … I’m a very selfish man but I promise you all—I love you. I love you so much.”

He needed his children now that he was alone. Now that he was afraid he wasn’t going to matter very soon. Now that he had a house that echoed.
But they didn’t need him.

“Hud, you’re twenty …” Mick paused, realizing he didn’t know exactly how old his son was.
“I’m twenty-three,” Hud said.
“Right,” Mick said. “That’s what I was going to say.”
“You don’t know how old he is. You don’t know how old any of us are,” Kit said. “Just admit it.”

“Shut up, Dad. You have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I was agreeing with y—”
“I don’t care! Hud can fuck all my ex-girlfriends ten times in front of me and I’d still like him more than I like you.”

And without delay, Brandon Randall drove off in Mick Riva’s car to go profess his love to Carrie Soto.

what the actual fuck

Her death had shocked him. He’d always imagined that he could one day come home to her. If she was still alive, he’d be with her right now. He’d have come to her tonight, maybe even sooner.

SICK

Five years ago, Kit had tracked him down. And since then, every single year, she addressed that envelope the exact same way.
This year was the first year he’d noticed.

Tarine sipped her wine and then said, “I suspect you have not lived a single day for yourself.”

“I love you, Nina,” Brandon said. “I want to come home.”

WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING

And she knew, in a flash, that she had to be able to catch them. She had to be able to hold each of them up, as they screamed, as the water came and soaked their socks and squeaked into their shoes.
And so she did.
Do you know how much a body can weigh when it falls into your arms, helpless? Multiply it by three. Nina carried it all. All of the weight, in her arms, on her back.

It was her last conscious thought. Forty-five minutes later, she drowned.
June Riva, that once tenderhearted dreamer, was gone.

So, instead of asking Mick to pay for the needs of his own children, June finally turned to her parents. She took a job at the restaurant.
June ended up in the exact place she had hoped Mick Riva would save her from.

He would scoop her up in his arms and Nina knew, knew in her bones, that her father would never ever leave her again. A year later, Mick Riva was performing in Atlantic City when in walked a backup singer named Cherry.
He never flew home.

How?
How did he get this incredible girl to look at him like that?
He didn’t deserve her.
He’d never deserve her.
But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try—with every breath and every second of every day that she was willing to be with him.

“I’m trying to figure out how to go back to only seeing you as a friend, and it’s not easy, because I’d just started realizing how much I care about you.”
Somewhere along the way she’d squeezed her eyes shut.
Keefe, meanwhile, had completely stopped breathing.

Meanwhile his brain started screaming, AHHHHHH—WE’RE HOLDING HANDS!
And they were.
Foster wasn’t pulling away.
WHAT DOES THAT MEAN???

when her toe clipped the edge of a root and she crashed into his back and clung on like a drop bear.
“Sorry,” she said—and it took him a second to realize…
She wasn’t letting go.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” she asked.
His heart went thud again, since he was pretty sure “go for a walk” was code for Hey, let’s go somewhere quiet so no one will see you crying.
But… at least then he’d finally have an answer.

But he couldn’t help leaning back against a lantern and staring at the sky, where a full moon was peeking through a swirl of clouds, and imagining Foster back at Havenfield doing the same thing.
Maybe she had Wynn and Luna with her.
Maybe they were all calling for him together.
He’d probably never know.
But he told the moon and the stars, “I miss you too.”

He even treated himself to a Batman hoodie and a T-shirt that said IT’S ME. HI. I’M THE PROBLEM, IT’S ME.—which felt very fitting.
According to his shopper, it was a lyric from a song he needed to listen to.
She’d actually gasped when he’d asked, “What’s a Swiftie?”

“Actually, I figured you might struggle to respond to a new first name. So I only altered the last name. But I think you’ll approve of what I selected.”
There was a photo of him, flashing his trademark smirk.
Next to the name: KEEFE IRWIN FOSTER.

Keefe focused on his palm, imagining how warm and soft her fingers would feel as they twined around his—and rolled his eyes when his heart skipped the next few beats.
This was definitely a new level of pathetic.
But… it actually seemed to be helping!
The more he made himself believe that Foster was right there with him, the easier it was to tune out everything else.

And he’d already said everything he could say in his note.
In fact, he honestly couldn’t believe some of the things he’d told her.
His cheeks heated up as he pictured his hastily scribbled confession.
You mean a lot to me, Foster. More than you’ll ever know.